


Pinch Hitter!

by education



Category: The Broken Hearts Club (2000)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor League Baseball, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/education/pseuds/education
Summary: It's been said that the reason Dennis is stuck in the California League is due to his refusing to be in the closet, and he's always figured that it's the truth. He's never minded. High A pays enough for him to keep up his photography passion as a side-hustle without it needing to help supplement his bills, and being one of the few openly gay semi-pros has always meant that there's a decent showing of hot guys in the stands, even on away games, cheering him on and hoping for something more. Plus, it's good for the kids, giving them someone to look up to. Or something.
Relationships: Dennis/Kevin (Broken Hearts Club)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Pinch Hitter!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noxelementalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxelementalist/gifts).



Dennis' leg decides to cramp up on him right as he steps up to the plate. It's the bottom of the sixth and they've only just managed to take the lead. He grits his teeth and mutters to himself as he waves over to the bench. Benji & Cole double-time to help walk him back to the dugout. 

"You just had to to rush back," Benji says. "Couldn't have waited a couple more weeks."

He's petty enough that he doesn't feel bad about digging his fingers into the meat of Benji's shoulder once they lever him down onto the bench, giving a big smile through his pain in case anyone in the stands is looking at him. The odds are high that the local affiliate that covers their home games has the camera trained on him even as Marshall takes the plate. Benji's answering hiss makes him feel better about the whole thing, even though Dennis knows that he isn't wrong to give him shit.

It takes a few steadying breaths, but the pain is manageable by the time Kevin comes out of the tunnel with his med-bag bouncing at his hip. He plants himself on the ground right in front of Dennis, not even bothering to ask where the injury is. 

"Thought you said you were good to go." Kevin does a mimicry of Dennis' voice that isn't all that flattering. 

"Yes alright," he hisses as Kevin carefully lifts Dennis' leg to rest atop his thigh, fingers gently pressing to find where the tension lies. "I already heard it from Benji." 

"He just didn't want me to overtake him in the rankings," Colt's voice cuts in from his side. 

"You can just fuck right off," Dennis shoots back, even though it's true. He's going to beat himself up if returning early ends up setting him back for even longer. Colt had started to creep far too close to his OPS average for Dennis' liking, and that had played a part in his insistence in making this game be his comeback. 

Kevin's fingers reach the sore spot on his leg, quickly turning Dennis' initial pained curse into a groan of relief as they pivot from probing to a deep massage, working the agony away. 

"God you're good at that," Dennis says, relaxing against the hard press of wood at his back. He spreads his legs wider, giving Kevin more space to work, and it isn't a forced thing when he shoots his wide smile Kevin's way. "Why aren't we married, again?" 

He forgets all about his pain at the way Kevin's face heats up in the mid-day Californian sun, cheeks well and truly dotted with freckles at this point in the summer, tan skin aglow. 

Marshall manages a hit right then, after his second out, knocking it far enough that the outfield of the visiting team has to scramble backwards to have any chance of preventing a home run. All the rest of the guys on the bench spring to their feet, cheering him on. Dennis can't, due to the leg, but he wouldn't anyway, eyes still focused on that blush covering Kevin's face, the way he now refuses to meet Dennis' eyes even as his hands never so much as falter in their movements on Dennis' sore leg. 

It's been said that the reason Dennis is stuck in the California League is due to his refusing to be in the closet, and he's always figured that it's the truth. He's never minded. High A pays enough for him to keep up his photography passion as a side-hustle without it needing to help supplement his bills, and being one of the few openly gay semi-pros has always meant that there's a decent showing of hot guys in the stands, even on away games, cheering him on and hoping for something more. Plus, it's good for the kids, giving them someone to look up to. Or something. 

Right now, even with the dull throb of his leg and the likelihood that his season may not meet all the plans he set for himself at the start, Dennis figures that the best part of being on Quakes is Kevin, who finally managed to come out to the team last year and who still blushes whenever Dennis flirts with him, an activity Dennis prides himself on doing once at minimum every practice and double that on game-days. 

He grins harder. "What did we decide on?" Dennis asks. "Is silence and blushing like a newbie a yes or no? I can't recall."

The commotion on the bench has died down enough for Colt to heart that one, if not the inciting remark, and he throws his arm around Dennis' shoulder as he inserts himself into their conversation. "If he's gonna marry anyone, it'll be me," he says. "Isn't that right, Kev?"

It's gratifying to see Kevin roll his eyes, blush abating. "Please stop agitating my patient." 

Colt makes an injured sound and places a hand at his forehead, face done up in an exaggerated grimace of pain. "Oof! The favoritism!" 

Dennis' pain is little more than memory at this point, but that isn't what Dennis is referring to when he says, "Thanks, sweetheart," to Kevin down between his legs. His smile goes soft at the corners when Kevin blushes again. 

It's just too goddamn easy, he can't help himself. 

Even though he's feeling better, Dennis knows he's done for the day and doesn't make a fuss when Kevin helps him up to take him back into the locker room. Colt offers to help but Kevin waves him off. "I got him."

Dennis gives Colt his sleaziest, most self-satisfied grin. "Yeah, Colt," he says, "Kevin can handle me." It's worth it even as Kevin jabs an elbow into his middle, causing him to double up a little. 

"Please, just shut up," Kevin says. And Dennis figures he owes him that much. 

Still, he can't resist saying, "Yes, dear." He knows how his bread is buttered, and he keeps his voice low enough so that only Kevin actually hears it and none of the guys. 

Even though Dennis feels like he can walk on his own now, he lets Kevin lead them on a slow-going journey to the PT table. "Do you think you can take off your pants, or do you need help?" 

"Well if you're _offering_ ," Dennis begins. He shuts up at the look Kevin gives him. "I can do it," he hastens to finish.

He ends up on the table in nothing but his shorts. 

"Did anything else feel tight?" Kevin starts with his shoulders, fingers firm enough that Dennis doesn't feel ticklish as Kevin assesses the landscape of his body. 

"Just the leg." 

"Didn't feel anything during warmups?" 

Dennis sighs, a bit in exasperation but mostly at how good Kevin's hands feel. "C'mon, Kevin, you know I woulda said something."

Kevin doesn't doesn't look like he believes him. "That right?" 

Other members of the team's staff pass through the hallway, going about their duties, and it's their presence that keeps Dennis somewhat in line. He folds his arms behind his head, showing off the length of his body. "Go ahead and check if you think I'm lying."

Kevin's eyes dart to the door for a fraction of a second before his hand darts to Dennis's chest, pinching his nipple. 

"Oh my god." Dennis convulses, hands going to cover his chest. He can't decide if he's more betrayed or impressed. "Who are you and what have you done with my Kevin?"

His body tenses up a second time when Kevin fakes like he's going to go for Dennis' stomach. Kevin's grin is bordering on impish. "Stop fucking with me at work," he says, pulling back.

Dennis honestly thought he was too old to get hard while on the job, yet here his dick is, getting interested. 

One of the ground rules Kevin had rolled out once he'd finally gotten the nerve to ask Dennis out last year had been that they needed to be professional at work. Dennis had agreed, but only in that he meant to keep treating Kevin the same as he had before they'd become an item. Which was to say that Dennis meant to keep flirting with Kevin at every innuendo-given opportunity.

"Sir, yes, sir," Dennis says. He even lets go of his chest long enough to salute Kevin above him. It earns him a glare, but Kevin's hands are gentle again when they settle to work on his thighs. 

Dennis, being who is he, counts it as a run scored in his favor, and allows his body to sink into the table as Kevin does his thing.


End file.
